


Root of all evil

by chick_with_wifi



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: But not OOC, Elphaba!Root, F/F, Glinda!Shaw, Mayhem Twins - Freeform, Steampunk POI, Wicked AU, Wizard!Machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root took a deep breath and hurried through the iron gates, pulling her black cloak tighter around her against the cold wind. Just as the bell went, she entered the old stone building covered in ivy. She knew what came next, of course. The stares. People gaping at her because she was different. It was something she had encountered a million times before and had consequently become very good at convincing herself she was used to. That it wasn’t chipping away at her, bit by bit.</p>
<p>The marble-floored lobby lit by a delicate chandelier above their heads was filled with fellow teenagers who would presumably become her classmates. All of them were simultaneously staring at her and keeping their distance. Obviously they had never seen a green person before.</p>
<p>“It’s not contagious,” Root murmured, hair falling over her face as she stared at the floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The lion cub

Root took a deep breath and hurried through the iron gates, pulling her black cloak tighter around her against the cold wind. Just as the bell went, she entered the old stone building covered in ivy. She knew what came next, of course. The stares. People gaping at her because she was different. It was something she had encountered a million times before and had consequently become very good at convincing herself she was used to. That it wasn’t chipping away at her, bit by bit.

The marble-floored lobby lit by a delicate chandelier above their heads was filled with fellow teenagers who would presumably become her classmates. They were roughly split into three groups: a conglomeration of giggling girls, some rough-looking boys and the rest who all looked like they wanted to be in one of the two gangs. All of them were simultaneously staring at her and keeping their distance. Obviously they had never seen a green person before.

“It’s not contagious,” Root murmured, hair falling over her face as she stared at the floor.

“What was that?” asked a tall, dark-haired boy, sharing a knowing look with some of his friends.

“I said: it’s not contagious,” repeated Root from behind her curtain of hair.

“Seasickness usually isn’t,” commented the boy, sending the gaggle of girls into a fresh set of giggles. But one girl didn’t laugh, Root noticed. Instead she merely smiled, but it never reached her eyes. Almost as if she was smiling for the sake of smiling, not because she meant it. 

“Welcome, new students!” announced a large woman wearing a ghastly red dress, her voice carrying easily over the chatter. Several whispers of ‘that’s Control’ floated through the crowd. “I am the head mistress here at Shiz University. You can call me Control.” She went on to explain all the subjects they offered, and when she mentioned magic the tips of Root’s fingers tingled. Just for a second she allowed herself to imagine it was caused by magic coursing through her veins. “Of course, you will all have roommates,” continued Control. Absolute bedlam followed, every student pushing and shoving in an attempt to crowd the popular people who had already asserted their dominance, despite the fact that they were five minutes into the school year. Wincing every time someone accidentally jostled her, Root tried to retreat into herself. But before she knew it, everybody had a roommate except her.

Cautiously, Root approached Control and tapped her on the shoulder. The older woman turned round and let out an involuntary exclamation of something between ‘oh’ and ‘ugh’ at the sight of Root. 

“I don’t have a roommate, Miss,” she said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Oh, um, of course,” stuttered Control. “Uh, Sameen!”

The pretty girl from earlier, the one who hadn’t laughed, approached them. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“Sameen, you will be sharing your room with – what is your name, child?”

“Root,” she murmured.

“With Boot.”

“It’s Roo – never mind,” whispered Root, so quietly neither of them noticed.

Sameen gave a non-committal shrug. “Alright.”

“You’re on the second floor, first room on the right,” Control informed them after consulting her clipboard.

Sameen nodded and picked up her bulky black case. “Where’s your luggage?” she asked Root.

“I don’t have any.” She scurried after Sameen, up the blue-carpeted main staircase to the second floor. When they finally reached it, rows and rows of identical white doors extended dizzyingly in front of them, seemingly impossible to tell from one another save for the cursive bronze number pinned to each one. Theirs read ‘201’. Sameen opened the door and claimed the bed by the window, with a panoramic view of the surrounding hills.

“I’m Sameen Shaw, by the way,” she said as she unpacked her case into the wooden wardrobe, the only thing aside from the beds in their sparsely furnished room.

“I’m Root.” She awkwardly perched on her bed and clasped her hands.

“Not Boot like Control said?”

“No. Why is she called Control?”

“Because of the iron fist she runs the school with.”

Root allowed herself a small smile and shifted into a more comfortable position, which proved difficult due to the fact that the bed seemed to be made of stone. It had dark blue covers which matched the ratty, dark blue carpet and complimented the beige walls perfectly. Out of her cloak she produced a book and curled up to read it. Staring steadfastly at the page but not reading the words, she watched her roommate hesitate at the door and look back at Root for a second before leaving the room. Once the door swung closed behind Sameen, Root focussed on her book. It was a book of spells she had stolen from the library on her way to Shiz. The pages were filled with an old script, words in a language she didn’t recognise, but she was able to decipher enough to be able to read it. The words felt unfamiliar, but she found it was addictive. They filled her like a delicious meal and she found herself wanting more. Before she knew it, the sun was setting and in the dim, red light she could no longer see the words on the page. She slid the book under her thin mattress and climbed under the covers, tucking them around her feet.

When Sameen returned to their room, Root was facing away from Sameen’s bed and staring at the wall. She stayed still while Sameen got changed and climbed into her own bed, preparing to go to sleep.

“Where did you go?” asked Root.

“To speak to some friends.”

“Are they nice?”

Sameen sighed and sat up. “Yes, they’re nice. Why are you interrogating me on my personal life?”

Root didn’t move. “I was just making conversation. It’s what roommates do.”

“It’s creepy.”

Root pulled herself into a sitting position and curled into a ball. She looked so small and defenceless. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy.”

“Just…don’t do it again.”

“Alright.” Root lay back down and rested her head on her hand. “Sameen?”

“What now?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not kicking me out.”  
…..  
Root sat on a low stone wall, reading her book and trying to ignore the chatter of everyone around her. A slight breeze blew her dark hair into her face every now and then. “Hi there,” said a fellow student she didn’t recognise, sitting down next to her. “You’re Shaw’s roommate, right?”

Root closed her book, keeping one finger in her place, and turned to face the intruder. She was slim and had brown hair and piercing brown eyes. Glamorous, but not over the top. “How did you know?”

The woman shrugged slightly. “I know a lot. I also know your father is the Eminence of Munchkinland.” She held out her hand. “I’m Zoe.”

Root was almost too surprised to take Zoe’s hand. When she did, it felt strange and unnatural. She was fairly sure this was the first time she had ever shaken somebody’s hand.

“The reason I asked was because Shaw is from a very rich family in Gillikin. I’d be grateful if you could put in a good word for me.” She stood and left, Root watching her retreating back.   
A sudden commotion from the courtyard drew Root’s attention. A tall, dark-haired boy had just arrived in an expensive-looking green carriage. 

Shaw’s blonde friend tapped her on the arm. “What now, Marsha?” sighed Shaw, rolling her eyes. Root smiled.

“It’s Martine,” corrected the blonde, but Shaw wasn’t paying attention. “And look! That’s John Reese!”

“What’s so special about John Reese?”

“He’s a Prince from the Vinkus!” squealed Martine. “Maybe he’ll notice me!” She immediately began preening, combing her hair and checking her makeup in a compact mirror she produced from her purse. Shaw rolled her eyes again and made a point of folding her arms and angling her body away from Martine. “Come on, let’s go say hi!” Martine grabbed Shaw by the forearm and pulled her towards John, who was stood surveying the premises and looking slightly bored.

“Hi,” said Martine, flipping her hair.

“Hey,” nodded John, not really paying attention.

“I’m Martine,” she continued, not willing to be deterred by John’s indifferent attitude. “And this,” she grabbed Shaw’s shoulders to stop her walking away, “is my friend Sameen Shaw.”

John’s eyes widened and he gave them his undivided attention. “The Sameen Shaw?”

Shaw looked at him. “How many Sameen Shaws do you know?”

“Just the one from the Upper Uplands whose family built the Yellow Brick Road.”

So that’s what Zoe meant by ‘rich family from Gillikin’, thought Root. Fascinating.

“You know, like, half of Oz has a crush on you right?” continued John, but he swiftly shut his mouth when he caught sight of Shaw’s facial expression. “Never mind.”

“Class!” called Doctor Ingram from the doorway of the building. “It’s time for your first Natural Sciences lesson!”

The students all filed into the classroom, Shaw sitting at the front away from her posse. Root noticed this and chose a seat behind her, with a good view of both Shaw and Dr Ingram.

“Hi,” whispered John as he sat down next to Root.

Root bit back a ‘what do you want’ and settled for a pleasant smile. At least, that’s what she hoped it was, since it could just as easily been a grimace. When he didn’t speak again, she let her hair fall over her face and turned her attention to the lesson.

Dr Ingram produced a small contraption covered with a dark cloth from behind his desk. “This is called a cage.” He dramatically lifted the cover off to reveal a baby lion cub cowering on one corner. “Now, we will be seeing more and more of them in the near future. This remarkable innovation is actually for the animal's own good.”

“If this is for his own good, then why is he trembling?” demanded Shaw, standing up.

“He's just excited to be here, that's all. Now, as I was saying, one of the benefits of caging a lion cub while he's young is that-“

“There are no benefits!” protested Shaw. “This is just wrong!”

“Now, Sameen,” began Dr Ingram.

“It’s Shaw,” she corrected him angrily. “And you can’t do this to him!”

John and Root shared worried looks. “What should we do?” asked Root quietly.

“I don't know.”

“Well, somebody has to do something.” Root felt it building up inside her then suddenly everyone except Shaw, John and the lion cub were thrown across the room.

“What's happening?” asked Shaw.

Root waved her hands around worriedly. “I don't know I got mad and…”

“Alright just don't move!” said Shaw, grabbing the cage. “And don't get mad at me.”

“This way,” said Root, leading them out of the classroom, pausing at the doorway to glance apologetically at her class still immobilised on the floor.

“Are you coming?” asked Shaw.

“Yes.” When they reached a nearby corridor, Root squatted down and lifted the heavy, red rug out of the way to reveal a trapdoor.

“How did you know about this?” asked Shaw.

Root shrugged offhandedly. “I’ve been exploring.”

“And teaching yourself magic, from the looks of that display back there.”

“Yes.” Root descended the staircase into a dark passageway, followed by John and Shaw. “If I remember rightly this comes out just behind the grounds.”

It was cold and damp, and Root hoped to high heaven there weren’t any spiders. They were so small and creepy with their too-many legs and web and…they made her shudder. The passage was dimly lit by flaming torches, so at least she would be able to see any spiders.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached a staircase leading to the surface that didn’t look at all stable. Shaw bravely scaled it holding the cage. John followed quickly, but Root hesitated.

“Root, come on. You’re going to be fine. I managed to get to the top,” Shaw encouraged. Root gingerly placed a foot on the first step, and winced as it creaked. “Keep going!” urged Shaw. 

Root was pale and shaking, but she managed to scale three more steps. There were only four left. She began to place another foot on the fourth step, but when she felt it break she drew it back again.

“Hop over the step,” said Shaw. Root nodded and jumped. She cleared the fourth step and landed on the fifth step, but it vanished from underneath her, shattering into a million pieces. She crashed to the ground as her weight caused the rest of the staircase to crumble. 

“Oww,” groaned Root, sitting up and brushing wooden shards off herself.

“Root? Are you alright?” called Shaw.

“Never better,” replied Root.

“At least your sense of humour is intact, even if your dignity isn’t,” observed John. “Ow!”

“Baby,” said Shaw. 

Root scrambled to her feet and looked at the complete wreck she had made of the staircase. There was no way she could climb it now. More scared of being trapped on the forsaken staircase for all eternity than of injuring herself, Root grabbed a fairly large piece of wood, smashed the rest of the rotten steps with it then backed up. Taking a run up, she jumped and managed to get both elbows onto the stone ledge. The coarse stone grazed her skin. Pushing herself up, she got her knee up as well and rolled onto the ledge.

“Ok, that was kinda hot,” commented Shaw, earning a smile from Root that was bright enough to grow flowers. John helped her up as Shaw checked on the lion cub, who was still shaking. 

“This way,” declared Shaw, indicating with a flaming torch she had just picked up. They walked quickly towards the end of the passage, which was just visible, with the last of that day’s light filtering in through the archway.

When the three of them emerged into daylight Shaw passed the cage to John in order to straighten her school uniform.

“Careful! Don't shake him!” fretted Root.

“I'm not!”

“We can't just let him loose anywhere, you know. We have to find someplace safe.”

“Don't you think that I realize that? You must think I'm really stupid or something!”

“No, not really stupid,” said Root. 

John set the cage on the ground. “Fine, if you don't want my help...

“No, I do!” protested Root, kneeling down to look at the cub. “Poor little thing, it's heart is pounding... I didn't mean for...”

“What did you mean to do?” asked Shaw, joining Root on the ground.

Root stared at the grass. “I don’t know. This thing comes over me sometimes and I can’t control it.”

Still standing, John said. “We’d better get to safety. I mean, get the cub to safety. Then get us back to school before somebody says something.”


	2. the Ozdust Ballroom

When the three teenagers arrived back in the classroom, everybody was still immobilised by Root’s spell. Dr Ingram and the pupils were strewn across the room, laid on the floor between the benches where they had been thrown. Aside from their eyes, they were unable to move.

“Can you undo it?” asked Shaw.

Root shrugged and rubbed her hands up and down her forearms. “Considering I don’t know what I actually did in the first place, no.”

“You could always try something vaguely… magical,” suggested John, waving his hands around in what Root guessed was meant to look like a spell, but in reality looked like he was being attacked by a swarm of bees.

“It’s worth a shot,” added Shaw.

For want of something better to do, Root snapped her fingers and the class was released, moving back onto the benches and glaring at daggers at her.

“Well what do you know, the big lug was right,” said Root in surprise.

Dr Ingram stood up and brushed an invisible speck of dust off his jacket, fixing the three of them with a disapproving stare over his glasses. “Control’s office – now.”

Root, Shaw and John looked at each other and mutely followed him, resolutely accepting their punishment. Inside the Head Mistress’s office, they sat silently on the uncomfortable wooden chairs staring at the floor as Dr Ingram explained what had happened. Shaw bristled when he laid emphasis on how her outburst was uncalled for because the cage was, in fact, for the animal’s good.

“So you see, Ma’am, I feel that the only acceptable course of action at this moment would be to expel the three troublemakers at once,” concluded Dr Ingram.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” whispered Root, eyes fixed on her boots.

“Never apologise for talent!” cried Control.

“Talent?” echoed Root, so surprised she made eye contact with the Head Mistress.

“Yes, talent! We haven’t seen a student with that much ability in years! If we train you properly there is a chance you could end up working for the Wizard. I’ll train you myself and take no other students.”

“The Wizard?” repeated Root, because apparently she had lost control of her vocal chords. “B-b-but…”

“That will be all, Dr Ingram,” said Control, sitting back down at her desk.

“The Wizard,” said Root, rolling the word around her mouth as the potential for this set in. Everybody in Oz had heard about the advances the Wizard had been making in the world of clockwork, something Root had always had an interest in. Clockwork made more sense to her than people, the way they were logical and could be designed for specific purposes.

“Root,” sighed Shaw for the umpteenth time. “Oz to Root, is anybody there?”

“Yes, sorry,” stuttered Root, standing up. To Control, she added, “thank you again.”

As soon as they left the office, John announced, “we should celebrate!”

“By doing what?” asked Shaw.

“A party at the Ozdust Ballroom! It’s the most swankified place in town.”

“Never say that word again,” said Shaw.

“What, swankified?”

“Yes!”

“Alright, calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm, you’re just an idiot.”

They reached the courtyard, and Shaw went to invite her friends Jeremy and Martine to the party, and John vanished to join the rest of the boys, leaving Root all alone. Not that she minded, she told herself fiercely. She would just sit on this wall, near where Shaw was with her friends, and read her book. Most definitely not eavesdropping.

“But didn’t you want to take sorcery?” asked Martine.

“Yes,” replied Shaw. “I want to find a way of incorporating sorcery into natural sciences and healing.”

“That’s really nerdy, Sameen,” said Jeremy in his horrible, slimy voice.

“What’s nerdy about wanting to help people, Lambert?” Shaw folded her arms and fixed him with a dangerous stare.

“Nothing, nothing.” He backed away slightly, hands raised in surrender.

“Right answer.” 

“So tell us about that green girl,” said Martine, hungry for gossip. “What’s she like? Is she invited to the ball?”

“She…she’s nice. What are you planning on wearing to the ball?”

Root nearly fell off the wall. Shaw thinks I’m nice!  
…..  
The three of them didn’t see each other again for the rest of the day, until the evening when Root and Shaw were sat in their dorm room. Root was wrapped in her cover, nose in a book as always.

“What are you reading?” asked Shaw, brushing her long hair.

“An essay on the history of the usage of wands in sorcery at the moment,” said Root, looking up at Shaw.

“Is it interesting?”

“Yes. I take it you're going to John’s party?”

Shaw nodded. “Are you?”

“Probably not, I’ve never been to one before and would just make a fool of myself.”

Shaw’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Never?”

Root tried to slide further into her cover. “…no.”

“That is unacceptable. You are coming to this party. Come on, I'll do your hair.”

“Umm…alright.”

Shaw attacked Root’s hair with her hairbrush and tied it in a fancy bun at the nape of her neck. “You have such soft hair,” whispered Shaw as she fixed it with a pin. “So why have you never been to a party before?”

The close proximity to Shaw, the fact that she was willing to do something nice to her and the events of the day had made Root want to open up to this girl. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Shaw had finished with Root’s hair and was rifling through her case, looking for some makeup.

“My father hates me.” Shaw opened her mouth to speak, but Root cut her off. “No, that’s not the secret. The secret is that he has good reason to.”

“You see, when my mother was pregnant a second time, my father was worried that the new baby might come out...”

“Green,” the two of them said in unison.

“So he made my mother chew milk flowers, day and night. But that made the baby come too soon, but she didn’t make it. And my mother never woke up. None of which ever would have happened if not for me.”

“But that wasn’t your fault,” said Shaw. “You didn’t make that happen, you didn’t make yourself green!”

Root didn’t know what to say. This was probably the first nice thing anybody had ever said to her.

“Now,” began her roommate, brandishing a lipstick, “let’s see about this makeup.”  
…..  
Shaw arrived at the party wearing a stunning black dress with her long hair loose. She instantly met up with Martine who looked equally glamourous and Jeremy, who was going for dashing but not quite managing it.

“Come dance, Sam!” called Martine from the dancefloor as soon as the music started.

“Maybe later,” Shaw called back, stood on the side-lines with John. 

“You look great,” he said.

“Thanks. Root said she’d be along soon.”

“Root’s coming?” asked John in surprise.

Shaw nodded, smirking as Martine and Jeremy attempted to dance. “What the-“

Control was making her way towards them, glaring students until they vacated her path. “Ah, Sameen. Just the person I need.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Shaw.

“I have something for you.” She handed Shaw a wand.

“Thank you,” gasped Shaw.

Control shook her head. “Don’t thank me. This was your roommate’s idea.”

“Root?”

“She requested I include you in sorcery class. She insisted I tell you this very night or she would quit the seminar.”

Shaw’s eyes widened slightly. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

Control nodded and left. Somebody turned the music up even louder and the dancefloor got even more crowded. Gasps rippled through the crowd and Shaw and John followed people’s stares to where Root stood in the doorway. She looked stunning. 

Ignoring the stares and whispers, she made her way to the centre of the room and began dancing. Moving to the music by herself. Nobody else joined her, and many exited the dancefloor. 

“I’ll say this much for her, she doesn’t give a twig what anybody else thinks,” commented John.

Shaw’s eyebrows were creased together in a frown. A few seconds later she strode over to where Root was and began dancing as well. The whispers increased, but gradually other people joined in. Soon the entire room was dancing again, and Root’s smile was the widest Shaw had ever seen it.

“Thank you,” said Root over the music.

“No problem,” replied Shaw, offering Root her arm as the track changed to a slower number. “May I have this dance?”

Root took it, smiling. “You may.”


	3. the Emerald City

“Ballgown,” said Shaw, moving her wand in a circle then pointing at Root. Nothing happened. She tried again, more forcefully, “Ballgown!”

Root glanced hopefully at her dress, but it was still the same black frock she’d had on all day.

“Is this thing on?” asked Shaw exasperatedly, shaking the wand like it had a loose battery.  
“Can I try?” asked Root shyly. Shaw nodded and practically thrust the wand at her. Root gracefully waved it then pointed it at her friend, enunciating the word, “Ballgown.” The magic flowed out of her like an extension of her soul and Shaw’s dress transformed itself into a tasteful black chiffon number.

“That’s fantastic, Boot!” cried Control.

“It’s Root, Ma’am,” she corrected her teacher.

“Of course. Oh and I almost forgot to tell you, the Wizard replied to my letter and said he would like to meet you and Sameen.” She produced a piece of parchment with the royal seal on from her desk and showed it to them. Sure enough, it dictated they were to go to the Emerald City that evening. “Your transport will be ready tonight.”

Root and Shaw shared an exited glance, just as the bell rang to signal the end of the last lesson of the day.

“Remember to be ready, girls. And good luck!”

“Thank you,” said Root.

They met up with John outside and shared the good news with him.

“I’ve always wanted to see the Emerald City,” said Shaw.

“I’ve heard they have buildings as tall as Quoxwood Trees,” sighed Root dreamily.

“And some of the best dress salons,” added Shaw.

“And libraries!”

…..

When they arrived there that evening, it took their breath away. Buildings stretched into the distance in varying shades of green and each fancier than the last.

“It’s all so grand,” breathed Shaw.

“And it’s all green,” gasped Root. Sure enough, everything was green. And not only that, but law dictated that everyone had to wear green-tinted glasses. It made everybody look the same colour as Root, and she couldn’t quite believe it.

“All the hustle and bustle! It's all so Ozmopolitan!” said Shaw, then she caught her friend staring off into the distance with misty eyes. “Root?”

“I want to remember this moment, always. Nobody's pointing, nobody's staring, for the first time, I'm somewhere that I belong.”

“You look positively emerald,” smiled Shaw, taking her friend’s hand. “Come on.”

They arrived outside the palace and knocked. The large doors swung open, revealing an intricately decorated reception room. They gave their names to the receptionist, who warned them that the Wizard was not in a good mood.

“Whatever happens in there, we’re two friends -” began Shaw.

“ - Two good friends,” said Root.

“Two best friends, sharing one wonderful day in the Emerald City,” finished Shaw.

“The wizard will see you now,” said the receptionist, opening the door to the Wizard’s office.


	4. The Wizard of Oz

The door swung open and revealed a large room with a green marble floor, bathed in bright light. The two girls’ eyes were immediately drawn to the large throne in the centre of the room on which sat a large, mechanical head made of bronze with glowing eyes. In a booming voice that filled the entire room it said, “I am Oz, the great and terrible! Who are you and why do you seek me?”

Root tried to hide behind Shaw, who pushed her towards the figure. “Say something,” hissed Shaw. Root racked her brains but couldn’t do anything except stutter and stare at the head. “Oh for pity’s sake. I am Sameen Shaw, your terribleness, and this is Root, uh, what is your last name?”

“I don’t have one,” whispered Root.

“Well, can you make one up?” Shaw whispered back.

“What? No.” 

“Oh, it’s you two,” replied a human voice. From behind the throne emerged a man dressed in a dapper suit and top hat. “I hope I didn't startle you, it's so hard to make out peoples' faces all the way back there.”

“Wait…you’re the wizard?” asked Root. “Then what is this?” She placed a hand on the metal head and could feel life thrumming under her touch.

The man put his hands in his pockets. “I know. It isn't much, is it? But people expect this sort of thing. You have to give people what they want.” He held out a hand. “I’m Finch.”

Shaw shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Your Ozness.” She elbowed Root and indicated for her to shake Finch’s hand.

Root waved her off and pointed to the clockwork head. “No…it’s alive. Argh!” She fell to the ground, clutching her head. “She’s speaking to me!”

“She?” asked the Wizard.

Shaw hurriedly knelt down next to her friend. “Root?”

“I can hear you,” whispered Root, looking at the head on the throne. Her hands were clenched into fists and tears were streaming down her face as she looked the Wizard in the eye. “You’re hurting her.”

The Wizard looked taken aback. “I…it’s not a life. It’s just a machine!”

“You made the machine to protect everybody. What did you do to her that she can't protect herself?”

“What do you mean?”

Root stood and wiped her eyes. “You stopped her from being able to communicate with people.”

“It has never spoken to anyone before. Why is it speaking to you now?”

“I don’t know.”

The Wizard waved his hands around. “It’s just a machine! What are you trying to do?”

“I don’t want to control your machine, I just want to set it free.”

Shaw took Root’s hand and tried to drag her out of the room. “Come on, Root. Let’s just go.”

Calmly, the Wizard held up a hand. “No. The two of you know too much.” He slipped behind the throne and the next thing they knew the head was calling for the guards in its terrible voice.

Shaw and Root made a run for it, but the door was thrown open by guards in uniform brandishing. The two girls skidded to a stop and shared a terrified look.

“Let me handle these two fugitives,” said one of the guards in a voice they immediately recognised. The others nodded and John frogmarched them out of the chamber.

“I knew you had a soft spot for me,” whispered Root. John grunted and nudged her forward.

As soon as they were alone, Shaw asked, “Have you misplaced your mind? What in Oz are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I had a feeling you might need backup so I followed you. It wasn’t hard to steal a uniform and pretend to be a guard. But you need to go, now.”

Root glanced back at the Wizard’s chamber with tears in her eyes. “The machine. Somebody has to help her.”

“The what?” asked John.

“Apparently the Wizard’s clockwork other half is alive and speaks to her,” shrugged Shaw. “It makes more sense if you were there.”

Footsteps approached and John winced. “You need to go. My family has a castle in Kiamo Ko. Now, no one is ever there except for the sentries who watch over it. We've never lived there.”

“Where do you live?” asked Root.

“In the other castle,” he said as if it was obvious.

“Of course,” said Root.

“Anyway, it's the perfect hiding place; tunnels, secret passageways. You'll be safe there.”

“I can’t leave the Machine,” whispered Root. “She needs me.”

“You said she speaks to you: can’t you ask her advice?” suggested Shaw.

Root closed her eyes. “She said she can talk to me via any piece of clockwork. There’s bound to be some in the castle.”

“Great. Let’s go!” said Shaw. They thanked John then slipped out of the Wizard’s palace.


	5. The Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the continuation as requested by the amazing lmaayanl. Hope you enjoy!

Amid the fog, the castle loomed before the two girls. The two turrets seemed to reach the sky and cast shadows across the surrounding grounds. “This is it,” breathed Root.

“What was your first clue?” asked Shaw, smirking.

It took both of them to push open the heavy door made of rotten wood, which creaked and threatened to fall to pieces at any second. Fortunately, it held together for long enough to let them in. Hand in hand, they entered the foyer. As Root’s foot landed on a woven rug, it sent a cloud of dust into the air that made them both cough.

“John wasn’t kidding about them never using this place,” said Shaw when she had recovered.

Root nodded, “Yeah.” As they ventured further into the castle the air was so stale they could almost grind it between their teeth like grit and the cold nearly seeped into their bones. The sort of cold that raised goosebumps on your arms and made you shiver. Root held her lantern higher and illuminated what appeared to be a library of some sort. In the orange light, the room seemed almost cosy. A floor-to-ceiling shelf lined one wall, filled with books, bottles of ointment and several mechanical devices. The next wall was mostly taken up by a window, and beneath it was a desk littered with yellowed pages covered in cursive writing. Hanging from the third wall was a thick tapestry patterned with red and gold swirls that’s primary function seemed to be to keep the room fairly warmed. Root immediately rushed over to the bookshelf and took hold of one of the mechanical devices. It seemed to be some sort of clockwork automaton about the size and shape of a bird. “The Machine could use this to speak to us,” she whispered as she held it reverently. 

The automaton juddered to life and moved stiffly, testing its legs and wings. When it opened its mouth, its jaw creaked slightly. “Can. You. Hear. Me?” it asked in a disjointed voice.

“Absolutely,” replied Root reverently.

“Well I never,” breathed Shaw with wide eyes. “This is actually happening.”

“How can I help you?” asked Root quietly, setting the clockwork bird on the desk.

It walked stiffly and tapped its beak on one of the pieces of paper. “Can. You. Read. This?”

Root held the lantern above it and frowned at the words. “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

Shaw came up behind her and looked as well. “It just looks like a load of nonsense,” she said, glancing at Root in confusion.

“No, it makes sense. It’s a spell to bring clockwork to life. Something about turning metal to ‘flesh and blood’.” She peered closer and ran a finger along the words. “Do you want us to build you a body?” she asked the clockwork bird.

“Not yet. First. Free. Me. From. The. Wizard.” The bird hopped onto another page then indicated with its nose to another device on the shelves. “I. Will. Need. To. Speak. To. You.”

Shaw took the lantern from Root and held it aloft. Glancing from the designs for some sort of ear device to the broken clockwork mouse. “You want her to disassemble that? And make what, an earpiece?”

The bird nodded. Root retrieved the broken piece of clockwork and took it apart with nimble fingers, carefully reconstructing it in the shape of the diagram. “We have enough pieces, thankfully,” she muttered. As she worked, her tongue poked out of her mouth slightly and a concentrating frown creased her brow. Shaw thought she looked adorable. Not that she’d ever admit it. “Success!” cried Root, holding up the new device. The light from the lantern reflected of the shiny bronze, revealing the new creation to be an earbud with a hook attached to it. 

Root placed the bud in her ear, the hook going behind her ear to hold in in place. Instantly the voice she recognised from the Palace flooded her brain. “How is this?” It was unmistakably female, but also deep and velvety.

“Good,” replied Root.

Shaw raised her eyebrows. “Does it work?”

“Yes. Where to now?”

“I don’t know,” replied Shaw, looking uncertainly at the forest expanding away from them outside the window.

“I wasn’t asking you,” said Root, piling up the papers from the desk and rolling them up, sliding a ribbon around them.

“Wait, what are you doing?” asked Shaw.

“The Analog Interface is going to sneak into the Wizard’s castle and transfer my power out of the mechanical head,” said Root, her voice distant and devoid of emotion.

Shaw did a double take. “Alright,” she said slowly. “Whatever you say.”

Root prepared to leave the room, but Shaw stopped her. “You’re shivering,” she said, taking an old black cloak off the coat stand and fastening it around her friend’s shoulders. Root put the scroll in the pocket of the cloak and led the way out of the old castle.

…..

They walked back to the Wizard’s palace, Root receiving directions in her earpiece and taking shortcuts down deserted alleyways until they reached the back window of the throne room.

“Give me a leg up,” said Root. Shaw obliged, and she climbed less-than-gracefully into the deserted room. Without all the fancy lighting it looked so much plainer.

“Can you see the head?” called Shaw from outside.

“It’s not the sort of thing you miss,” Root called back. Quickly, she walked closer to the mechanical head and waited for instructions.

“Open the head,” the voice told her. Root ran her hands along the warm metal until she found a clasp and undid it. Instantly the head opened to reveal clockwork and a glowing stone. “Remove the stone.” Root did so, and slipped it into the folds of her cloak. 

Footsteps approached, echoing like scattered pebbles. That’s my cue to leave, thought Root. She jumped and took hold of the window ledge, pulling herself up and lowering herself down on the other side.

“Did you get it?” asked Shaw.

Root nodded. “We need to run, the guards are coming.” She looked off into the distance. “Where to now?”

“I am free from the Wizard,” said the Machine in her ear. “Thank you.”

Tears shone in Root’s eyes. “Anything for you.” Then their conversation was over and she was back to receiving instructions, her eyes getting the vacant look that meant she was focusing on the voice.

Shaw lightly tapped her on the arm. “Is your other half telling you where we need to go?”

Root shook her head slightly as if to clear cobwebs from it. “Yes. I…she said we need to go steal some more parts to build her a body.”

Shaw smirked. “Crime. Now you’re talking.”

Root smiled a genuine smile and took Shaw’s hand in her green one. “Let’s get to work.” As the sun set, they walked away from the palace and into the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! If you are not familiar with the plot of Wicked, it's basically the origin story of the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda the Good and how they were best friends at university. I took a few liberties with the plot in this fic to make it fit Root and Shaw better, but it should be easy enough to understand.  
> Thank you for reading and have a nice day!  
> Beth


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